Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

Mentioning that night she got drunk, Leda touched her nose with a hint of embarrassment.

"It was all my mom's fault, insisting I attend this so-called youth mixer. It was basically a speed dating dinner in disguise."

The young men and women were like items on display, laid out for selection.

Nola was great in every way, except for being a bit of a worrywart.

Going on about how 'unequal matches never work out' and 'love can't survive on empty pockets,' blah blah blah...

Leda was over it.

After the last visit home, she laid down the law with Nola: she could consider matches of similar social standing, but the final choice was hers to make.

In return, Nola had to swear off arranging any more blind dates or mixers behind her back.

Roseanne: "Choose for yourself?"

"Yeah, as long as the guy's family isn't broke, my mom's cool with it. Easy, I'll just pick from our circle!"

"You're really going to pick?"

Roseanne blinked.

men who would dote on her, pamper her, and treat her like a queen... that

all had an extra layer of pride. We're all from influential families; why should I, a grown man, lower myself

softly, lowering her voice, "I have to choose, or I can't face my mom. But I'm not picking a date; I'm picking a

pushed into marriage. Since none of us want to follow our families' plans,

put on a show in public, pretend we're together, and then do our own thing in

their freedom on the side. A win-win. Roseanne still

I know

when Leda went to the restroom to pay the

out, Leda pouted, "I said it was my treat, why

"I can't let you foot the bill every time. I'm

"Right, my little heiress."

so, she reached out to

pinch, it hurts. Keep your hands to yourself in public, it's not

girls laughed their way through the lobby, heading

Reynolds, a moment,

call made them both halt and instinctively look

mostly middle-aged some with streaks of gray, neady

at the center of attention stood

was a stark contrast